


give me a shot to remember

by akamine_chan



Series: The Sharpest Lives [9]
Category: Bandom, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Community: anon_lovefest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He should have known better, but he'd always been a sucker for a pretty face.  Even if the face in question was currently as whitewhitewhite as Bat City's sterile walls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	give me a shot to remember

**Author's Note:**

> Written non-anonymously for the LJ community anon_lovefest.
> 
> Prompt of _Party Poison/Gerard, fighting dirty_.
> 
> Warning for depictions of fighting and detoxing.
> 
> Title from the song _The Sharpest Lives_ by My Chemical Romance.
> 
> Ebook available [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4494519).

He should have known better, but he'd always been a sucker for a pretty face. Even if the face in question was currently as whitewhitewhite as Bat City's sterile walls.

Gerard's sweaty black hair contrasted strongly with his ghostly paleness and made his eyes look huge, like an old-style anime character. It was sort of disturbing.

"You okay, motor baby?" Poison asked.

Gerard opened his mouth to say something but instead he made an odd noise and skittered into the bathroom. Poison winced at the retching sounds that drifted through the small house. "Fuck," he sighed.

Slowly, Gerard wandered into the bedroom, looking impossibly paler and Poison settled him back onto the bed. He covered Gerard with a cotton sheet, knowing that before long even that would be too much stimulation against Gerard's skin.

Poison sat at the edge of the mattress and rubbed his thumb across the curve of Gerard's cheek. "How you doing, bright eyes? Change your mind yet? It's only been a few hours and it's gonna get worse from here on in."

Gerard jerked away from Poison's touch. "Fuck off. I can do this."

"Don't doubt it, sugar," Poison grinned. "Not a matter of _can_. It's a matter of _want_.

Gerard bit at his lip, all of his certainty sliding away. Poison was almost positive that Gerard was going to give up and call it quits, but at the last minute, something in Gerard's face shifted. "I want this," he said quietly. "I want to be clean, I want to be sober, I want to be free of BL/ind once and for all. No take backs."

"Sucks to be you, then, 'cause I'm not letting you outta here until you're done." It would take at least a week, if not longer, for the drugs to cycle their way out of Gerard's system. It was going to be hell, for both of them.

Poison was prepared, though. They had food and water to last several weeks. He had a pile of books he'd been meaning to read for a while. And for when things got really desperate, he had a handful of zipties, a roll of duck tape and a coil of rope.

"Thanks," Gerard said quietly.

"Don't thank me now, doll. You're going to be hating me before long."

Gerard smiled wanly. "That's why I'm saying thanks now."

"Yeah, okay."

* * *

The first day wasn't too bad. Gerard was irritable and restless, unable to hold food down and spending a lot of time throwing up in the bathroom, but he let Poison distract him with talk about music and BL/ind and bar-stories and the best hookup lines ever. After hearing some of Gerard's lines, Poison wasn't surprised that Gerard never got laid. His lines were _awful_.

The second day started off bad and just got worse. Gerard spent hours pacing, refusing to be diverted from his discomfort. Poison humored him for a while, but eventually gave up and let him stew in his own misery.

Gerard still couldn't eat, but argued with Poison about drinking water.

"Drink the fucking water or I'll tie your ass to that chair and make you," Poison said mildly, not looking up from his book. "You're gonna get dehydrated and it'll make you feel worse than you already do."

"Fuck you," Gerard slurred.

Poison looked up just in time to watch Gerard dash back to the bathroom. "Okay, then."

It had been a whole day of Gerard whining and pacing and generally trying to bargain his way free, but it wasn't anything that Poison hadn't been expecting. He'd dealt with druggies in various stages of detox before and he knew how to say no and make it stick.

When Gerard came out of the bathroom, he was exhausted and pale, sweaty and shaking. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?" Poison expected another _fuck you_ , or maybe something equally as creative, but all he got was a tired nod.

"C'mon, sugarbaby, let's tuck you in."

Poison coaxed Gerard into bed and brushed his hair off his forehead, feeling the fever burning through him. "You're doing pretty good, so far," he murmured. "Something to be proud of."

Gerard eyes fluttered open. "Yeah?" He swallowed. "It's bad."

"And it's gonna get worse." Poison didn't believe in sugar-coating things. "But you're gonna beat this."

"You think?" Gerard licked his lips. "You lying just to make me feel better?"

"You'll have to wait and see, doll face."

Gerard laughed weakly and tried to sleep.

* * *

It wasn't until the third day that Poison learned that Gerard could fight dirty. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did.

In one brief moment, Gerard shifted from Bat City junkie loser into something, _someone_ a little more dangerous, someone a little more edge. Poison had underestimated Gerard, had ended up with a busted lip, a knee that hurt like a motherfucker and a lingering ache in his balls.

Poison'd turned his back for a moment, thinking that the DTs had Gerard incapacitated, but instead Gerard had jumped him, knocking him to the ground and dashing for the door.

Gerard didn't get very far; he was a jonesing, twitching, weak-ass tweakhead, after all. But the fact that Poison was having to chase him down was fucking annoying. When he caught up with Gerard, he got a face-full of dirt and sand and a rough kick to his knee.

He ignored the intense flare of pain and tackled Gerard, hampered by the fact that he didn't actually want to _hurt_ Gerard. Though he was so fucking tempted, because his knee was motherfucking killing him.

Instead, they wrestled in the dirt and Gerard got a lucky shot in. Poison gasped and curled protectively around his crotch as the world whited out and when he could breathe again, Gerard was on his feet, trying to stagger away.

Enough was enough. Poison knocked Gerard down and punched him twice in the face before dragging him to his feet, twisting his arm into a come-along hold. He pushed Gerard back to the house, badly favoring his knee and his aching balls. "You owe me big-time, motor baby," he muttered.

Gerard wasn't listening; he was too busy struggling and trying to pull loose from Poison's grip, mumbling words that weren't making much sense. Poison had _no_ idea what Gerard was hallucinating, but tying him to the bed didn't seem like a bad fucking idea at this point.

"Motherfucker," Poison panted, ducking a fist as Gerard squirmed free. "Hold still." He didn't manage to duck the second punch, but he stopped Gerard's fighting by the simple expedient of sitting on him.

Poison sat there for a moment, trying to catch his breath and cataloging his injuries and Gerard's. By his count, Gerard had come out in the lead, a pretty impressive coup for someone who was most likely seeing imaginary things. "Fuck," he sighed. Ghoul was never, ever going to let him live this down. "You have no idea what I put up with for you," he muttered to Gerard before reaching for the zipties.

-fin-


End file.
